


Property of Phil Coulson, Age [Redacted]

by misbegotten



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 5 Acts Meme, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson is a goddamn tease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property of Phil Coulson, Age [Redacted]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



Phil has a lot of pens. Mostly nice ones, including his ten year anniversary pen with the SHIELD logo on it. Clint's favorite, though, is a well-worn Sharpie marker. In purple, because Phil has a sense of humor even if he likes to pretend he doesn't.

At the moment, Clint is buck naked on their bed, wishing Phil would get rid of his boxers so Clint could feel the hard edge of Phil's erection against his hip. But that's not how the game is played. Instead, Phil is tracing a bullseye around Clint's left nipple with the Sharpie. Clint tries not to fidget, although his breath is uneven as Phil finishes his art work and then leans forward to capture Clint's nipple between his teeth, worrying it gently. Clint lets out a sigh and curls his hand on Phil's neck to draw him closer, but Phil immediately stops and looks up at Clint.

"I'm not done yet, Agent Barton."

Clint smiles in anticipation. "Yes, sir. I was just trying to move things along."

Phil tetches lightly and taps the top of the marker on Clint's breastbone. "Patience," he says, and then twirls the marker. He starts writing where he tapped, in careful block letters, "L - I - C - K" down Clint's chest. Apparently pleased with his work, he traces the letters with a finger. Clint can feel anticipation bubbling up, stirring his cock and making his breath uneven again. After what seems an interminable time, Phil scoots down on the bed and obeys the command he's written, licking a solid stripe up Clint's chest.

When Phil raises his head, Clint takes advantage of the opportunity to capture his lips, plunging his tongue into Phil's mouth. Phil makes a pleased sound, indulging Clint, but soon breaks away and points at Clint with the marker. "That wasn't on the agenda."

Clint shrugs. "It's not my fault we agreed nothing above the collar." The thought of Phil's handiwork on his lips or neck, for everyone to see, thickens his cock, and he grabs another kiss before Phil can escape.

Phil hums and lightly pushes Clint back against the bed pillows. He inspects Clint like an artist surveying a canvas, and settles on the hard ridge of Clint's hipbone, writing in his neat script, "Bite here." And then he does, and Clint has to dig his fingernails into the bedclothes to keep from bucking off the bed. His traitorous cock has no such patience, jutting from between his legs and brushing Phil's cheek.

Phil smiles and draws an arrow starting from Clint's belly button and ending in the nest of curls surrounding his erection. Across Clint's belly, he writes not "suck" (which would bring blessed relief) or "tease" (and Phil is a goddamn tease), but four letters -- M I N E. Satisfied with his artistic efforts, he puts the cap back on the marker and puts it in the drawer of the nightstand.

"Yours?" Clint asks, and if Phil doesn't put his hand or lips or _something_ on his dick in the next minute Clint won't be responsible for his actions.

Phil just smiles. "If you'd like something less crude, there's always this," and pulls a ring box from the open drawer, pressing it into Clint's hand.

Clint opens it and finds two gold bands, each etched with interlocking wings. "You know, you're supposed to go down on one knee when you propose."

Phil rolls over and crouches above Clint's increasingly painful erection. He takes the tip in his mouth and sucks lightly before letting go. "Will this do?"

Clint grins. "Hell yes. And for the record _I_ do, too."


End file.
